


Especially the Lies

by blue_blue_electricblue



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Confusing, Love, Other, Romance, licking batteries is actually something that can be so personal, mind fuck but in a cute way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:41:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23531746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_blue_electricblue/pseuds/blue_blue_electricblue
Summary: Dominic Wilde and his relationship with his lover, and all of the Distortion's confusing multitudes.
Relationships: Michael/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Especially the Lies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mttproductions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mttproductions/gifts).
  * Inspired by [How Dominic Wilde Embraced the Spiral](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22280152) by [Mttproductions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mttproductions/pseuds/Mttproductions). 



> this fic features my friend's OC, Dominic, and his relationship to Michael/the Distortion!! i had a super fun time writing it, and i hope you all enjoy!

The galaxy spins around and around, and the universe has a tendency toward disorder, and lightning arches in sparking, unpredictable patterns, and there are infinities within infinities and life is dizzying and love is even more so and Dominic Wilde is falling apart in the most beautiful way.

_ Truth, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder,  _ a voice that is high and staticky and twisting says to him one day.  _ We have no need for truth. We have our own definition of beauty. _

He doesn’t remember what he said in response. Does it matter what he said? Would it matter? What he said is not what he said, he never said it, and he said something else, and the voice never said anything to him in the first place, and he said what he said a million times and never, and it was a dream, and it was a fantasy, and it doesn’t matter, anyway.

(What he said, truthfully, though truth doesn’t exist and it is pointless to try and find any in a world so confusing and twisting– but what is  _ said _ to the voice that was technicolor and neon and static and stars and dragon’s claws, what he  _ said  _ to the voice that tasted like ozone and batteries and tootsie pops that had frozen and then sprinkled in pop rocks, what he  _ said  _ was  _ you are both beauty and truth to me, _ and the voice that caressed him and slapped him across the face in a single breath  _ laughed _ and the universe fell out of its orbit and everything was  _ right. _ )

Dominic licked a battery once as a kid. 

(No he didn’t. Well, he did for the purposes of this story, and this story is true. True enough. Totally false, which is the best kind of truth.)

Dominic licked a battery once as a kid. Someone had dared him to in his seventh-grade science class, intending to play a trick on him, make him jump uncomfortably but do him no actual harm. And he did, and he didn’t know what to expect, but he did it, and the sensation of electricity coursing through his tongue was  _ good _ , it was  _ good. _ It was right. He licked the battery over again. It tasted like iron and ozone and  _ electricity _ and disorder. It tasted like the world was falling apart and coming together, it tasted like power and confusion. It didn’t taste like anything at all.

Dominic licked the battery again.

A lizard in a TV show that Dominic never watched, or perhaps always watched, or that perhaps didn’t exist at all, was once asked which of his stories were true and which were lies.

_ My dear doctor, they’re all true! _

_ Even the lies? _

_ Especially the lies. _

Dominic licks batteries now, has a full-time job of sticking his tongue into a fuzzy, fizzy, bright world that sticks a tongue back into his mouth, he falls apart beautifully and distorts into fractals and universes beyond himself when he buries his fingers in heaps and curls and twists of blonde blonde blonde hair, when he tastes the feeling of knowing frost is on your window, when he feels the difference between how vanilla extract  _ smells _ and how it  _ tastes _ holding his waist. He falls apart into billions of atoms and he reforms into something new when he holds onto the thing called Michael and  _ kisses _ him– 

“You remind me of fairy-tales,” he tells his technicolor lover. 

(No he doesn’t.)

(Yes he does.)

“You remind me of faery tales,” he tells his neon lover, and the radio static laughs.

“Am I your knight in shining armor?” says the voice that spins and spins and spins around him, going forever and spiralling out into his heart and into the stars.

“You’re the beautiful creature with the eyes that are not to be trusted. You’re the girls with the frog-teeth and the boys with the hollow backs. You’re the children who are lies, and you’re the parents that are thieves. You’re everything beautiful that is a lie, and you are everything that the old stories warned me about, and you are everything that is attractive about them anyway.”

Dominic doesn’t say that, and  _ that _ is the truth. Sort of.

“Am I your knight in shining armor?” says the voice that fuzzes and stretches, distorts and changes.

“Yes.”

Dominic doesn’t say that, and  _ that _ is the truth. Sort of.

The Distortion is the truth, and nothing else is. It is the lies, and it is all true.

What is truth? What is  _ reality? _ What is the point in searching for something that doesn’t exist? There is no objective truth, and that is the truth, only it isn’t, because there is no objective truth.

When Dominic says

“You are both beauty and truth to me.”

When Dominic says

“I licked a battery as a child.”

When Dominic says

“You remind me of faery tales.”

Which of these are true? Which are lies? Certainly some have to be lies.

The Distortion lies all the time. But the Distortion  _ is _ a lie, so how could it be any different?

Kissing the Distortion is the only truth there is. Loving the Spiral is the only truth there is.

Because, after all, it’s  _ all _ true.  _ Especially _ the lies. Lies are the most true things in the entire universe, and there is no bigger lie than the Distortion and all its hands and love and hair and glory.

Dominic loves Michael, and that is the truth.

Michael opens a door and takes Dominic’s hand in his too-large one, and he drags him through the corridors, and nothing makes sense but the hand in his.

Michael smiles and his smile  _ twists _ and the room tilts and his hand is around Dominic’s waist, and the world is revolving backwards, but that’s alright, because Michael’s smile twists and fractures off into infinity and all Dominic wants to do is follow it forever.

Michael kisses Dominic and the sun explodes into atoms that reform into a spiral and they watch it all in their mind’s eye and it is  _ beautiful, _ because it is a lie, and because they decide what is true.

And it’s  _ all _ true. Especially the lies.

Michael surrounds Dominic with his presence, and Dominic falls apart in the most beautiful way.

Dominic kisses Michael’s neck and feels safe in the seltzer-bath of Michael’s love, in the cherry candy of his arms, in the frosted windowpane of his warmth.

“Am I your knight in shining armor?” the voice that spirals and statics and screeches asks, only it doesn’t screech and it doesn’t spike and it doesn’t tear at the ears, it just asks so softly it doesn’t truly sound like itself. It sounds like the gentle hum of a love song over a poorly-tuned radio, barely audible through the static, but there.  _ Dream a little dream of me, _ sings the undercurrent of the dream’s voice.

Dominic pulls his head away from Michael and looks him in the eye. The eyes break and twist the moment you look at them, because they, too, are lies and truths. The eyes spiral inward forever, and you can get lost in them, but that’s okay, because getting lost in the Distortion’s eyes would be exactly what would make Dominic happiest.

There is no answer that is true to the question. Nothing Dominic says will properly encapsulate all that he feels as he falls apart and distorts into something new with the being he cares about most in the entire world. Nothing Dominic says will satisfy the Distortion, either, and he knows this to be true, though it may not be true. There is no true way to answer the age-old question  _ am i your savior am i your knight in shining armor am i here for you am i devoted and protective do you trust me am i your truth. _

And so Dominic answers a much different, much easier question instead. One with an answer that is almost as true as the lie of the Distortion itself.

“I love you,” he says simply, and he hopes that is enough.

Truth, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder, and they have no need for truth, and their own definition of beauty.

“You are both truth and beauty to me,” Dominic says. “I love you.”

“I do not need truth, but you are mine. I define beauty in my own way, and you are it,” says the voice that holds Dominic so carefully and then shatters around him. “I love you.”

Life is dizzying and love is even more so, and Dominic Wilde is falling apart in the most beautiful way, and he loves the Distortion, and the Distortion loves him, and that is the truth.

**Author's Note:**

> so there are a few star trek quotes SO SUE ME
> 
> just started using [twitter](https://twitter.com/bluezaffre) so come say hi to me!!


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